


Scars

by lusteralliance



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Angst, M/M, Reconciliation, pre-release, we really out here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-24
Updated: 2019-07-24
Packaged: 2020-07-12 20:48:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,778
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19952725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lusteralliance/pseuds/lusteralliance
Summary: An army cannot win if their leader grows reckless; Felix approaches Dimitri under the guise of this, but in truth, he seeks something else.





	Scars

**Author's Note:**

> hhgghghg

The army returned at nightfall.

Felix sat by the entrance of the barracks, eyeing every soldier that passed. Many were limping, many were being carried in stretchers. Many were gone.

Dimitri came last. While his men sat down to consult the healers, he disappeared into his chambers without a word, his icy blue eye focused ahead.

Felix narrowed his eyes, his arms folded across his chest, his blades hanging in their scabbards at his hips.

“Captain Felix,” a timid young healer whispered, and Felix turned to look in her direction. She was clutching her staff nervously in her arms, as if she were a child and the staff was her toy.

“What’s the matter?”

“Is His Highness all right?”

Felix shrugged. “How should I know?”

“You’re...well, you’re his most trusted confidante….”

The dark-haired swordsman nearly laughed. “Not anymore. I couldn’t care less about him or his silly little feelings.”

Felix was a good liar. That was probably the only reason Dimitri kept him around.

The man wasn’t even a king—he wasn’t even a royal anymore. But they still called him His Highness, their lord, their liege. The only one who didn’t was Felix, for Felix never spoke to him. And he never spoke to Felix.

“He’s growing reckless in battle. He nearly died today.”

Felix flinched. “What?” Dimitri hadn’t shown a sign of injury when he had passed him. His heavy cloak must have hid it from him.

The concern turned to irritation, then to hatred.

“He, um—” the healer blinked nervously “—he saved me, from being killed….”

“...Did he now?”

The healer suddenly blushed. “I...um, oh, forgive me...I was hoping you could thank him for me, seeing as you’re his friend—”

“I’m not talking to that damned madman anytime soon, so you can thank him yourself,” Felix scowled, his amber eyes ablaze with anger. The healer’s own brown eyes grew wide, and she scuttled away.

Felix folded his arms again, digging the heel of his boot into the ground beneath the crate of rations he sat on. There was hatred boiling in his stomach. He didn’t know why, but he didn’t want to, either.

When the army returned to the barracks the next night, Felix was in the lead. He had suffered a blow to the shoulder, and a blow to his pride.

Dimitri had shoved him out of the way of a couple archers’ arrows, and he had plucked their arrows from his armor and slew them all in a matter of heartbeats. He had saved Felix’s life and risked his own and hadn’t said a word, hadn’t even looked at him. As if he was just another soldier, another foolish underling to toss out of the way.

Dimitri could have been killed. But Felix could have been killed, too.

The swordsman grimaced and sat by his men, and the healers walked among them, their magic glowing in the dim light of the camp.

He watched Dimitri in the corner of his eye. His old friend glanced his way for just an instant before disappearing into his chambers.

The healer from the night before came to Felix, and she cleaned and dressed his wound, then eased the pain with a simple incantation that she muttered under her breath.  
“That should do it,” she smiled shyly. “Just be sure not to use that arm too much in battle, okay?”

“Sure. Thank you.”

When she left, Felix got to his feet. He winced at the pain in his shoulder, passing the men who weren’t fortunate enough to have His Highness throw them out of danger’s path.

Dimitri’s chambers were far from the rest of the camp, and far from Felix’s own living space. It was often silent, as it was often empty. But today, there was scuffling, and there was cursing. Felix closed his eyes. Why was he trembling?

“Hey. Open up.”

The noise ceased. Then, a voice that tore Felix’s already wounded heart into pieces.

“What do you want?”

“I need to talk to you.”

“No one needs to talk to anyone.”

Felix squeezed his eyes tighter shut, his trembling fingers curling into fists.

“Let me in, Your Highness.”

“Your voice is shaking.”

Felix gritted his teeth.

“So what? Let me in. I need to discuss tomorrow’s march with you.”

“That’s peculiar.” Dimitri’s voice was so much gruffer than it used to be. It had lost its careful poise, its proper enunciation, everything. He had lost himself. “You always blindly follow my orders. How come you want to talk to me today?”

Felix pushed the dark curtain aside and stepped in.

Dimitri was sitting at his desk, at which he was trying to bandage his arm by candlelight. Blood was dripping from a long, thin gash that went from his wrist halfway down his forearm.

He had been hurt.

“Get out,” Dimitri snarled, and Felix almost did. When he turned his waist just a little, his heels anchored him to the ground. He let go of the curtain, and it fell still behind him.

“There’s a healer who would love the chance to touch your skin. You should go talk to her, but she might faint.”

“I said _get out_!”

“Teacher always told you you were the worst at dressing wounds. But your ego even had to get in the way of that, didn’t it?”

Dimitri’s cold gaze bored into Felix, and he held onto the pommel of his sword for dear life, to stop him from shaking, to stop him from running.

“I came to tell you not to be so reckless. One day you’ll get yourself killed, and where would that put us?” Felix placed his free hand to his chest. “Where would that put me, _Dimitri_? Your loyal, trusting friend?”

“You would have been shot dead if I hadn’t pushed you out of the way back there.”

“You could have grabbed me, pulled me out of the way. You didn’t have to be a hero.”

“Are you lecturing me on how I should have saved your life?”

“I’m telling you you didn’t have to do anything at all. I mean, what difference would it have made, anyway?” Felix snorted, shaking his head. “I’m just another one of your soldiers, just another pawn in your grand scheme, aren’t I?”

“Shut your mouth,” Dimitri growled.

“Just another corpse you can kick under the carpet when you’re done with me, eh? Just another body you can hide yourself behind, and when we all fall, you can build a nice little fortress with our festering cadavers—”

Dimitri slammed his fists onto his table, his bloody bandages falling uselessly between his wrists, and Felix shut his mouth. And he hated that he did. He hated the control this brute still had over him, after everything.

“You call yourself loyal, you call yourself trusting...you still are as much of a pathetic fool as you always have been, Felix.” The way Dimitri spat out his last word stabbed Felix like a rusted knife; it seethed with impatience, with annoyance. 

“I always have a reason. Always.” Dimitri’s voice was filled with a sinister coldness, one Felix had never gotten used to, even through all the years of listening to it. It seemed as if some evil had claimed Dimitri and spoke through him; as if he were trapped inside his own body, and there was only madness.

“What was your reason, then?” Felix demanded. “A king needs all his pawns to succeed, doesn’t he? Was that your reason, Your High—”

“ _SILENCE_!”

Felix fell silent as he was told.

Dimitri’s fists were trembling, his knuckles white. Blood was still seeping out of his open wound, his attempt to dress it abandoned.

“You’re all I have left.” Felix held his breath at Dimitri’s words. “And I hate you for that.” The fierce anger in his voice was gone, and there was something afraid left behind. Like a hermit crab abandoning its protective shell. A broken man taking off his mask.

He was vulnerable. He was alone.

“Everything I had, everyone I loved...everything was taken from me. But _you_ decided to stay.” When Dimitri turned his head again to face Felix, his remaining eye was filled with fear.

“You’re only giving me more to lose, Felix. And every time I look at you I feel like it will be my last...whenever I look at you anymore, it’s only to see you for the last time.”

Felix held his gaze as best he could. But he was shivering, as if it were cold, as if the ground was quaking beneath him and only him. 

“I’m sorry for not dying on you like the others.” Dimitri flinched. “But I’m not going anywhere, whether you like it or not. So get your head out of your self-pitying little ass and accept it. I’m not leaving you alone.”

Dimitri stared at him, his expression unreadable. And it made Felix even more nervous not to know what his first friend was thinking.

Then, he looked up. And his eye was trained on him, and Felix turned his head, squeezing his amber eyes shut. He felt that if he looked at him any longer, he would disappear.

“Wait...Dimitri, I….”

“Don’t push yourself.” His voice was...his. It was gentle, careful. Familiar. “I understand.” Felix opened his eyes just a little, and Dimitri was holding out his arm. “...Will you help me?”

Felix bent his head so Dimitri didn’t see him smile as he worked. He cleaned the wound, which was shallow, and wrapped it in bandages. After he finished, his hands lingered on Dimitri’s skin for a moment longer than he’d planned.

Dimitri turned his wrist, then flexed his fingers. He nodded with approval.

“Thank you.” He got to his feet, and Felix tipped his head upwards a little to meet his eye. His gaze was bright and calm. “You would make a good healer.”

Humor.

It was as if Dimitri was recovering from a terrible illness, one that sapped away himself and replaced it with some other creature; it was as if his old scars were mending, marks on his skin fading to dust. He was returning.

“At least one of us would,” Felix replied wryly, and a grin cracked Dimitri’s solemn mask. He leaned a little closer to Felix, who hesitated before placing a hand over Dimitri’s heart.

“You told me you won’t be leaving me. That’s a promise, isn’t it?”

Felix lowered his gaze just a little. “Yes.”

“Swear.”

“I swear.”

“On what?”

“On my life, and on yours.”

The tip of Dimitri’s nose brushed Felix’s cheek. His words were whispers.

“Good. Now get some rest; we march at dawn.”


End file.
